


With Mirth in Funeral

by queenofthorns



Series: Terra Incognita [4]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-23
Updated: 2013-05-23
Packaged: 2017-12-12 18:23:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/814602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenofthorns/pseuds/queenofthorns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brienne and Jaime continue their journey to King's Landing, but along the way they receive some disturbing news about someone they know. </p><p>Spoilers through Episode 3.09 of the show</p>
            </blockquote>





	With Mirth in Funeral

The rains have stopped at last and the sky is a limpid, cloudless blue; a light breeze caresses Brienne’s sun-warmed face. For the first time since Lady Catelyn sent her on her journey, she feels the tightness drain from her shoulders and neck.

Their pace has slowed to an easy trot; they will not readily find new mounts if these falter. An archer named Sennet spots canes of wild raspberries, bright as blood, in a thicket just off the Kingsroad. Jaime says something to Steelshanks, who gives the men leave to dismount and pick their fill. Brienne chooses to stay out of the fray; instead she leans back against a boulder, stretches her legs and closes her eyes against the glare. The talk and laughter of Bolton’s men fades into a pleasant murmur.

“Cup your hands,” Jaime orders. Brienne opens her eyes to find him squatting next to her, cradling his leather sling against his chest with his left hand. There’s a smear of red at the corner of his mouth and an angry welt on his cheekbone. She does as he bids, and he tips the sling. Plump raspberries, their skins oozing juice, fall into her cupped palms. “These are for you.”

Brienne’s mouth waters at the dizzying scent, but if she moves her hands to take one, the berries will fall to the ground. 

“Jaime,” she begins.

“Yes,” he says. “I see the problem.” He eases himself down beside her. “Open your mouth,” he says, popping a ruby morsel between her lips. 

The tart sweetness makes her head swim; she closes her eyes, remembering her barelegged forays in the woods near Evenfall Hall. The lingering scent of sun-warmed fruit comforted her when her Septa frowned at her filthy hands and scratched arms, called her a hoyden and sentenced her to long hours with her needlework as punishment.

“Does it not please you?” Jaime asks.

Brienne opens her eyes. “No ... I mean, yes, it was delicious.” 

“Good,” Jaime says, putting another berry in her mouth. “I braved wasps for these.” He points to the mark on his cheek. “And thorns,” he says, showing her the scratches across his knuckles.

“You are very gallant, ser,” Brienne smiles. “But why?”

“I wanted to see you smile,” he tells her. “Like that.”

She turns her head so Jaime won’t see the blood rising in her cheeks.

“I wasn’t sure you remembered how,” he continues. She turns back to him to find him alight with mischief.

Brienne’s eyes narrow. 

“If you hit me,” Jaime points out, “the raspberries will fall and be wasted.” He picks another one from her cupped palms and holds it up to the light. “Truce?”

Brienne nods. “For now,” she says darkly.

Jaime laughs and feeds her another berry.

***

A thunder of hoofbeats on the Kingsroad brings Walton’s weary men to their feet. Jaime instinctively reaches for the sword he no longer has. _With the hand he no longer has._ Laughter has vanished from his eyes, replaced by such bleakness that Brienne longs to comfort him. _And what should I say? There is no comfort in the truth._

Mindful of Lord Bolton’s orders and Lord Tywin’s gold, their escort forms a ring around Jaime and Brienne as they wait for the newcomers to approach. Soon they are close enough for Brienne to make out the nipples and the dimpled belly of the naked woman they bear as their sigil. 

“That saucy wench fought under the direwolf banner of Robb Stark at the Golden Tooth,” Jaime says thoughtfully. “I put Lord Piper’s men to flight there. They are far from home.”

“Are they hunting you?” Brienne whispers to him. Steelshanks has twenty men. _And I will make them arm me,_ Brienne thinks. She will not let Jaime be captured again. 

“I think not,” Jaime says. “Look at their other banner.”

They carry the same white peace banner that Walton’s men make haste to raise, just as the first of Piper’s men reins in his lathered horse. 

“What’s your business?” he asks.

“My business is minding my own business,” Steelshanks replies. “If you do the same, we’ll get along.”

Jaime shoulders his way between the men until he’s standing beside Walton. “Has Lord Piper deserted the King in the North?” he asks.

“Have you not heard?” Piper’s man stares disbelievingly out of bloodshot eyes. “Robb Stark is dead.”

“Dead,” Brienne whispers. _Is there no end to the sorrow the gods heap on Lady Catelyn?_

“Aye, dead.” Piper’s man spits. “Those treacherous cunts the Freys. They did for him at his uncle’s wedding. Lord Bolton and his men betrayed us too, may they rot in seven hells.”

Steelshanks eases his sword from its scabbard as the man talks; Jaime lays his hand on Walton’s forearm, shaking his head.

“Go on,” Jaime says. “What's become of Edmure Tully?”

“Lord Edmure was dragged from his bride’s bed; he’s a prisoner, along with our lord’s son, and scores of others,” the man says. “All the lords of the Riverlands or their heirs sit in the dungeons of the Twins.”

“And your Lord has sent you to bend the knee,” Jaime finishes.

“Aye, we’ll bow our neck to the lions in King’s Landing so the Freys don’t serve Ser Marq the same dish they served King Robb.”

Brienne finds her voice. “What about Lady Stark?” she asks. “Is she held prisoner as well?”

The man notices her for the first time. “Lady Stark is dead,” he says. “And King Robb’s wife.”

The roaring in Brienne’s ears drowns out whatever else the man is saying. An iron band stops her throat so she can neither speak nor swallow nor breathe. _I have failed her_. _Just as I failed Renly._ A vise grip on her elbow keeps her from sinking to the ground.

She forces herself to take long breaths, filling her lungs until her dizziness subsides. When she can stand by herself, she shakes off Jaime’s hand.

“Brienne?” he asks, but she cannot trust herself to speak to him. _I laughed with Jaime while Lady Catelyn lay dead._ She pushes past Bolton’s men, stumbling to where she tethered her horse. She leans her head on the animal’s neck, fighting back her tears. _I will not weep for her in front of these men. Roose Bolton’s men. And Jaime._

 _“Sansa loves songs of knights and princesses,” Lady Catelyn told her. “And Arya wants to_ ** _be_** _a knight. There is something of both my daughters in you, Brienne.”_ Did she know the Lannisters had wed Sansa to their own? _Did you despair?_ Brienne wonders. _Did you think me foresworn as you died without seeing your daughters?_

Piper’s men hasten on their way; Steelshanks gives the order to his men to move on as well. “Looks like we’re on the same side now, m’lord” he tells Jaime. 

“So it would seem,” Jaime says.  

Brienne rides in stony silence, remembering. Jaime comes up beside her, so close she could touch her knee to his. “Brienne,” he begins. She turns her head and edges her horse away from his. 

 _“Swear_ ,” _Lady Catelyn commands Jaime, twisting Brienne’s sword into the rags covering his chest. “Swear by your sister’s life that if I set you free, you will send my girls back to me.”_

_“And if I do not swear?” he asks. "A vow made at swordspoint is no vow at all."_

_"Lord Karstark wants vengeance for his sons,” Lady Catelyn tells him. “And I promise you it will be not be quick.”_

_“When you put it that way,” Jaime says, “I think I’ll swear after all.”_

_Lady Catelyn calls the jailer into the cage where Brienne knocks him out with the pommel of her sword. She keeps her dagger poised in the hollow of Jaime's jaw while Lady Catelyn unlocks the irons around his neck and ankles._

 _When he can stand, they make him lay his hands to the blade of Brienne’s sword and swear by the Seven: Mother, Maid and Crone, Father, Warrior, and Smith, and by the Stranger. On his sister’s life and his brother’s and his father’s he swears that once he is safely returned to King’s Landing, he will free Arya and Sansa Stark and send them to their mother._

_Brienne bundles Jaime into the cloak and hood they’ve brought with them. “Sit,” she tells him, shoving him down into the darkest corner of his cage._

_“I’ve become very good at that,” Jaime remarks._

_“Hold your tongue, Kingslayer,” Lady Catelyn orders him. “Before I change my mind.”_

_Brienne drags the insensate jailer to the pole in the center of the cage and helps lock him into Jaime’s iron collar. “I will stay with him,” Lady Catelyn says. “Else the Karstarks may hang the poor man in revenge when they discover our deception.”_

_“They may harm you instead!”_

_“I must take my chances,” Lady Catelyn says. “Robb will return in a few hours and I will not have this man’s blood on my hands.” She embraces Brienne. “May the Seven bless you and give you a safe journey.”_

_“And you as well, my lady,” Brienne says. “I will return with your daughters, I swear it.”_

_“Very touching,” Jaime whispers from the corner. “Now shall we go before I lose my head and Lady Stark loses her daughters for good?”_

_Brienne gives him a well-aimed kick in the ribs for that and earns a satisfying grunt in return._

_Lady Catelyn douses the torch and shuts the cage door behind them. When Brienne turns for a last look at her, her face is shrouded in shadows, and she might be anyone at all._

She hears Jaime sigh next to her. “Very well,” he says. “Silence it is.” He rejoins Walton at the head of their column, leaving Brienne to her memories. 

They make camp in the open that night, just off the road. Brienne sits apart, refusing food and drink. When she is sure that they all sleep save the lone man on watch, she rises and makes her way out of earshot. The moon and stars shine down in indifferent splendor, lighting her way to a stand of oak trees. In their dark shelter, she sinks onto the leaf-strewn ground and lets herself weep for Lady Catelyn and for her daughters, for Robb and for Renly, for her broken oaths and stupid dreams.

At last, spent, she draws her knees up to her chest, hugging them for warmth. An owl swoops down so close that she can feel the air its wings disturb on her puffy, tear-streaked cheeks. A dying shriek cut short tells her the owl has found its prey. _The large feed on the small, the strong on the weak._ It is the way of all things. At least in nature, no smiles and fine words like oaths and honor disguise the talons in the neck, the knives in the back. 

She sees a movement out of the corner of her eye and lifts her head. Jaime has sought her out; the moon silvers his hair as he walks towards her with the caution of a man approaching an angry dog.  

“Brienne,” he says. “Please talk to me.”

“Why?” she asks him. “So you can gloat?" 

“No.” He settles himself next to her. “I take no pleasure in this news.”

“Why not?" she asks, unwilling to be appeased. "Your enemies are dead.”

“I don’t deny I would have gladly killed Robb Stark in battle. I dreamed of it for a year spent rotting in the mud. But this was ... not clean. They murdered women at a wedding feast. The Freys will be byword for infamy for generations.”

“The Boltons as well.” Brienne reminds him. “Roose Bolton betrayed his liege lord.” A sudden thought strikes her. “Did you know?” she asks. “You spoke with him, you knew he was going to Edmure Tully’s wedding. Did he tell you what he intended?”

Jaime’s mouth twists. “I’ve been waiting for that question,” he says. “And there it is. Once an oathbreaker, always an oathbreaker? Is that what you think?”

“Did you _know_?” She forces the question through unwilling lips.

“Of course not,” Jaime replies. “I knew Bolton meant to do _something_ , else he would not have sent me back to my father. But I swear to you that I never knew _what_ until this day.”

She wants to believe him, but she knows he's a convincing liar when he wants to be. _He lied to save me from rape._

“This was not the work of a moment,” Jaime continues. “It must have taken weeks for my father to weave this web, and I was busy having my hand chopped off, remember?”

“Your father?” Brienne asks.

“Who else? Walder Frey and Roose Bolton would never have acted without his backing.”

 _The Lannisters murdered Lady Catelyn_ She swallows hard, past the sharp pain in her throat. _Jaime is a Lannister, for whose life Lord Tywin would pay all the gold in Casterly Rock. He crippled Lady Catelyn's son._ She rubs her burning eyes. _He saved a city. He put himself between me and the bear._

As though he knows what she’s thinking, Jaime says, “There are no half-measures in this, Brienne. Either you trust me, or you do not. Which is it to be?”

 _He came back for me_ , Brienne remembers. _If he meant to break his oaths, he could have let me die at Harrenhal and no-one would ever have known or cared._

“I trust you.”

Jaime releases the breath he’s been holding.

"I failed Lady Catelyn," Brienne says softly. "I swore to protect her with my life. I should have been there."

"Then you would have died. And that would have been such a ... waste." Jaime grimaces. "You swore her other oaths as well," he says. "I heard you."

"Yes," she says.  _I will keep that promise at least. Or die trying._

“I swore her oaths too," Jaime continues. "And I mean to keep them."

They return to the camp after the moon has set. The path is more crooked than Brienne remembers, tangled with roots and slippery with rotting leaves. She stumbles, but Jaime's quickness saves her from sprawling face-first on the hard ground.

"Thank you," she says, stopping to face him. _For my life. For your oaths._

"Always," he says, and there is a catch in his voice. 

It is the hour before dawn; all color has leached away, and the men of Walton's camp are dark shadows on a field of paler grey. Jaime and Brienne step into this unknown world, side by side. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is the end of the journey I started with Jaime and Brienne after the bear pit. If you are interested in how I think the show might go from here, you can find my version of this [Brave New World](http://archiveofourown.org/series/49823) in which Jaime and Brienne return to King's Landing before they do in the books, and what happens afterwards.


End file.
